October 21, 2017

THE MEXICAN VS. FRANK BORMAN

THE MEXICAN VS. FRANK BORMAN

A well-humoured middle-aged Mexican man shuffles along the
dank streets of Ciudad Juarez, Mexico; moving from car to car… to car… to car.

He is a legless man, exhausted, walking on his hands – not
his feet… clearly strong enough to propel his muscular upper-body forward – not
unlike the Virunga Gorillas you read about living in the Congo and Rwanda – or
kids playing with crutches; his torso lifts up, then “flings” forward –
remarkably fast. For less urgent needs he purely scuttles on
his stub butts… butt to butt… to butt… to butt.

Precisely when or how he lost his legs does not matter.
Perhaps he was born defected. Perhaps an accident. His job tonight, like most
nights, is to stump-along thrusting one dirty hand upward – slightly
passed the height of the car door – where hopefully an impatient driver spares
him some loose change – gently placing a few pesos or US cents into his
callused hands. To each driver, the beggar imparts a genuine ‘please be
generous’ facial expression. Then, with his humorously hopeful gaze he
patiently awaits his fate. Now it’s time to move to the next sitting car at the
Juarez, Mexico // El Paso, Texas (USA) boarder crossing – he recollects himself
and prepares for the next car. Interestingly enough, he smiles and jokes
with absolutely everyone and his friends readily tease him while he slogs.

I’m with my friends. A group of young, well-inebriated,
university students slowly returning home – across the Rio Grande, back to
the USA. Most of us are scholar basketball players and thus seeing the
Mexican’s awful plight temporarily sobers us up. (Even so, the Mexican
appears completely comfortable with his demise, situation, and appearance and
is surprisingly good-natured).

The next morning, I am called into NMSU’s basketball office
to see head coach Neil McCarthy.

“Pootz, how you doin?… I want you to meet Frank Borman.
Frank’s been to the moon and was just bringing me some, what-ha-call-it
Frank, Moon Dust, …here have a look.”

Somehow, that day, I’d only come to the
basketball office to share my story about Juarez, Mexico’s plight – only
to be completely rattled by the profound socioeconomic differences among people
on Earth.

Separated by 50km and the Rio Grande river, I was left
stunned by the overwhelmingly different lives and opportunities these two men
lead/had. One man, begging legless in the filthy streets of Juarez …the
other bouncing off the untouched sands of our moon 384,400km away.